


Yu Gonplei Ste Odon

by The100Holic



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Clexa Love Week, Clexa Week, Clexa Week 2017, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 16:29:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12136476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The100Holic/pseuds/The100Holic
Summary: What if the bullet missed Lexa?This is a short story on what I think would've happened if Titus had missed Lexa.





	Yu Gonplei Ste Odon

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is just a quick story about what would have happened it Titus missed Lexa. This will not be a series (unless highly requested for it to be... maybe?) anyways. I wrote it a while ago so I'm going to publish it now while I'm working on my series "Only Fools Rush In". Enjoy!

                Clarke always looked so lovely in the evening glow of sunlight that rested outside of Lexa’s bay window. Her golden hair shimmered with hues of reds and pinks that she wasn’t able to completely wash out, her blue eyes specked with a cool grey that reminded Lexa of the little stones she found washed away in a nearby river. She traced the outline of Clarke’s lips with her finger, they were soft and gentle when they weren’t set firmly while discussing important matters. She propped herself up on her elbow and planted a kiss onto them, soaking in how good it felt. Clarke smiled up at her, a true and genuine smile.

                “As much as I love this I should be getting back- “

                “To my people, I know.” Lexa had finished Clarke’s sentence for her. Clarke was all about her people and Lexa has always admired that about her.

                Clarke flashed a smile once again and sat up from the bed, the comforter she had shielding her falling to her thighs, Lexa stared indiscreetly. She watched as Clarke changed back into the clothes she came in, Lexa made a constellation out of the freckles that speckled Clarke’s back so brilliantly. Clarke attempted to fix her hair that became askew but gave up after a handful of failed tries. Once Clarke reached her door, she let her hand hover over the handle and craned her neck back to look at Lexa.

                “I’ll see you soon,” Clarke said, and then she left the room leaving Lexa to lay alone in her bed that she now knew was meant for two people, not just one.

                A gunshot rang out from outside Lexa’s door. She paused for a moment, eyebrows furrowed in absolute concentration; she was trying to determine where it came from. Another gunshot fired and she was, without a doubt, certain that it came from just outside her bedroom. She was quick to throw back on her clothes that were carelessly scattered on the floor and to grab the small knife that she kept hidden under a pile of clothing in her drawer and wedged it behind her belt. She cautiously opened her door, overhearing a conversation going on between Clarke and whom she assumed to be her body guard, Titus.

                She walked out briskly and before she could even comprehend what was going on another gunshot went off and her eyes dropped downwards. A bullet had hit the metal edge of a storage cart and bounced back a few inches before falling to the ground, if it had been a few centimeters off it would’ve surely hit Lexa in the stomach.

                “Chil yo daun!” Lexa fiercely commanded, eyes burning down Titus.

                (“Stand down!”)

                “Heda Leksa…” Titus felt guilt creep up his throat, he had been trying to kill his Heda’s partner after all. “Teik ai frag em op en dison laik odon.”

                (“Commander Lexa… let me kill her and get this over with.”)

                Lexa pinned down Titus with her eyes, they were inflamed and he could feel the heat burn into his core. “Hod yu rein daun, Titus,” she growled, hand covering the handle of the knife that poked out from under her ribs.

                (“Mind your place, Titus.”)

                The glint of metal from the barrel of his gun shimmered in the fluorescent lighting. His hand was shaking with anticipation and hatred that her felt towards Clarke; she had made his commander weak. But he knew better than to disobey his commander, no matter what feelings he had stored up. He dropped his gun, clanking as it hit the cold, concrete ground.

                “Branwada seintaim en taim set yu daun,” Lexa gave him another deathly glare, “jus drein jus daun.”

                (“Even a fool knows when to surrender… blood must have blood.”)

                Clarke hadn’t been shot or even injured, but it was no matter. He had attempted to kill her and he had to pay for his crimes.

                The tension that hung dimly in the air was sticky and thick, they all knew what she meant. Lexa glanced back at Clarke who was blatantly disturbed by what just occurred and then to Murphy whose face was half swollen, half bloodied, and somewhere in between both. Titus’ tongue was tied; he couldn’t make out the right words to say.

                “Heda…” was all the he could muster up.

                She raised her hand to silence him, “yu gonplei ste odon.”

                (“Your fight is over.”)

               

In the training courtyard where hay decorated the small field and fighting practice took place, Lexa had ordered for a wooden post to be nailed down into the middle of it, and to have Titus tied to it to demonstrate how much of a fool he was. Town people gathered around, curious on why the commander had one of her bodyguards tied down to a post. Murphy and Clarke stood next to each other, watching intently on the action that was about to take place.

                “Teik em laud tromon-de!” Lexa demanded to a young male that looked not quite old enough to be a warrior.

                (“Sound the horn!”)

                The loud, single-note sound of a wooden horn sang out into the chatter-filled air and silenced the ever-expanding crowd. Lexa held a neutral face, a trick she learned after becoming Heda of the twelve clans. Never let your people, or your enemies, know what you’re thinking; that’s one weakness that was highly frowned upon.

                “I’m aware that all of you have no knowledge on why you are here and why this man,” she motioned to Titus carelessly, “is tied up. Let me make one thing clear; if you disobey me and go against my wishes, you will end up like Titus. A coward, standing before his Commander like the fool he is.”

                She repositioned the spear that was held securely in her hand. It was the same spear that killed the Ice Queen, Nia. Her blood was still smeared onto the rusting silver blade. She turned her attention to Clarke, whom looked relieved yet oddly tense. “Would you like to do the honors?” Lexa asked her, turning the spear around so that the handle was summoning Clarke to grab it.

                Clarke glanced warily at the splintering wood that grimaced with dirt from years of handling. Her eyes trailed up to Lexa’s who was suppressing the emotions trying to engulf her iris’. Clarke pressed her lips into a firm line and confidently grabbed the handle. It felt weird in her hand, she had only handled a spear a few times in her life but she knew how to accurately throw it. She walked up to Lexa and stood beside her, chin up and eyes narrowed. Lexa stole a glance at her, almost letting her stern face break into a smile when she noticed the beautiful determination set in Clarke’s features.

                “Jus drein jus daun,” Clarke spoke in the same tone Lexa used while speaking to her people, but though it sounded like she was speaking to the crowd, she was actually speaking more to herself.

                (“Blood must have blood.”)

                The spear flew out of her hand, spiraling swiftly through the air until impaling Titus straight through the heart. His body slumped against the ropes he was entangled in and the crimson color of blood started to drip from the corners of his mouth. The crowd cheered, and Clarke couldn’t help but wonder what exactly they were cheering for.

                She walked over to Titus who was a clear example to not mess with the Commander. If he hadn’t tried to kill her maybe somewhere in her heart would she feel a twinge of pity towards him. But he was the one who had the gun pointed at her, not the other way around.

                She carefully pulled the spear out of his chest, it resisted a little but finally gave way. Blood sputtered from the hole and slowly crept down his sweat-soaked shirt.

                “Yu gonplei ste odon.”

                (“Your fight is over.”)


End file.
